The blade slid cleanly through my armour, pushing through metal, cloth, skin and bone. White-hot fire pours through the wound, a wave of pain spirals through my mind, and for a few precious seconds my eyes close in response to the pain.

I force the weapon aside and end the life of Saruman's creature. The damage, however, has been done. I reel backwards; the stones are suddenly uneven beneath my feet. I stumble, and realise with a sudden cold rush of fear that Death may await me.

The battle continues to rage around me, but my body slows, my actions are weak and disjointed. I sense the Uruk behind me, I know his intention, I hear his approach and I am powerless to stop it. His sword bites deeply into my back, and my knees collapse beneath me. Carelessly, he takes his sword and moves on.

Above the din of battle I dimly hear Aragorn's voice. I think he is calling my name. Air spills over my lips yet does not reach my lungs. I hear the breath grimly seeking entry, but I do not feel it.

What light surrounds me is diminishing until all I can see before me is the glint of golden armour and rich blue cloaks tossed carelessly about the remnants of fletched arrows and finely crafted swords. Row after row of my people, my friends, my army. We had marched into battle together; we had come to stand united once more in the old alliance against the darkness of Sauron and his puppet wizard Saruman. Glory and victory awaited us; as it ever does when Elves march to battle. Instead we found blood, death and defeat.

The air rattles in my lungs and I feel my life disappearing with the breath. Regrets fill my mind, anger surges briefly to be replaced by conviction. This was right. We must stand against the growing darkness. Even if my people are leaving these lands, even if our time here is over, we cannot abandon Middle Earth and its peoples to this dark fate. Not if it is within our power to prevent it.

The glittering silver strands of the lifeknot you gave me press sharply into my chest, striking at my heart, and sudden realisation pierces me. We are immortal, we need only fear dying in battle or a broken heart. I fear that having accomplished the first, you may attempt the second. Go into the West, my love, bear the memory of our love into the Undying Lands, keep it safe there, and know that I loved you. Go, go with our people. Our time here is passed, we enter their age, the world of men shall rise now or our Middle Earth will fall.

Darkness finally claims me, your name lies unspoken on my lips, your image before my eyes. I do not feel Aragorn's frantic touch, I do not see his despair or anger as he allows my body to fall to the cold stone battlements below us. My time here is over; his is just beginning.